Playing Fields

Laid up and tears behind, pace the bridge of a dark bank. Feel the long fields nose point towards a night horizon. Trees tower high into the shimmering milky way. A glittering coastline winks between branches.

Pensively hung north north by east, f eet feel the cargo groan. Children stitch shoes in their sleep. Upright parents with plastic jackets for tropic sun, compress by wharfies with multiple adjectives, rhyming couplets, shut pentameters. Brooding rawness.

Dolphins toy with thrusting bows. Deep terrors lift though locks. Wheeling phosphorous tests our wash. Africa appears as a giant smudge in translation. A magician slips carburetors from his cloak

so redactors and wordsmiths in squat industrial units sharpen screwdrivers to join lego bricks together. Amnesiacs lovingly tecal a new delivery by the street-lights lume, words shine. In the abattoir of dreams, despair curls up in small tight cubicles, feet grip tread-mills. Ignore the bodies above, below, behind, before.